


Make It Through

by highkingmariot



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lost family, post 4x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 09:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highkingmariot/pseuds/highkingmariot
Summary: After the events with the dragon egg, Quentin finds himself missing his family more than ever. Post 4x08.





	Make It Through

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Magicians Rec Center prompt of Family.

Inhaling sharply, Quentin opened his eyes and looked blearily around him. He wasn’t sure what had woken him, but it wasn’t the sound of the birds in the morning, or a child’s laughter, or someone failing to be quiet in the kitchen.

No, because he wasn’t in Fillory.

His dream clung to him with desperate fingers and he curled up tighter on the couch, his heart aching with the longing he felt to slip back into it. Eliot had been chasing Teddy around the clearing, pretending to stumble every few steps so that he wouldn’t catch him too soon, until his hands grabbed at his waist and he lifted him up to sit on his shoulders, all while Teddy laughed and shrieked and Quentin and Arielle looked on from where they were curled up on the outdoor bed. It had been a good day – one of many, so many, and Quentin would have given anything to be back there. At the very least, he could slip back into the memory…

He heard footsteps but blocked them out, squeezing his eyes tighter closed, shifting to pull the blanket higher over his shoulder. He didn’t remember having a blanket earlier – he’d have to thank whoever had put that over him. Later. He moved again to get his elbow out from under him, not thinking anything of it until he heard a crack and a splat.

His breath caught in his throat, and then he let it out slowly in a heavy sigh. _The egg._ Opening his eyes, he leaned his head over the edge of the couch and, sure enough, the egg that had been resting against his cheek when he’d fallen asleep had fallen and broken onto the floor. Because of course it had.

“I got it,” came Julia’s voice from somewhere not far from him, and he turned his head to see her walking towards the kitchen. The chance to fall back to sleep slipped further and further, and he begrudgingly let it go, stretching his back as he sat up and held his hand out for the paper towel in hers when she returned. Kneeling beside the couch, she smiled away his offer of help as she wiped up the mess he’d made. “How’s your egg-hangover? Egg-over?” She rolled her eyes at her own joke as she stood up, folding the paper towel over itself.

“I’ve felt worse,” he said quietly, mindful of the others still asleep. Standing up and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, he followed her back to the kitchen and climbed up onto one of the stools, leaning forward with his elbows on the counter.

Standing on the other side of the kitchen island, she copied his pose, tilting her head slightly. “Are you okay?”

Huffing a humourless laugh under his breath, he stretched his lips sideways into a mockery of a smile. “None of this is okay.”

The last remains of her smile faded from her face. “I know,” she said softly, reaching across the island with an open hand, and he tucked the edges of the blanket around his shoulders into one hand so he could take hers.

The question was heavy in her eyes, and he felt the tenuous grip he had on himself waver at the thought that, after all of this time, she still knew him better than anybody. She knew, about all of it. He’d told her about Arielle, about the whole life he’d lived in Fillory with Eliot, about the son they’d raised together and the grandchildren who they’d spoiled at every opportunity. He knew it was still kind of an abstract idea to her, but the fact that she was asking, really asking… she understood.

Her fingers tightened around his, and he let out his breath in a slow exhale. “That feeling… It never goes away. The panic, the hope, the love, it’s all-consuming. I feel it every time I think about Teddy.” Julia smiled sadly at his son’s name. “As soon as I touched the egg it took me over, Jules. I know it was some magically induced dragon protection whatever, but to feel that way about something I could touch, that I could hold… to have that hope for the future again…”

Julia’s fingers were iron around his, and he realised it was probably because he was gripping hers just as tightly. She was blurry, and he used the edge of the blanket to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I wish I could have met him,” Julia said gently, and his heart twisted impossibly further.

Swallowing against the burning sensation in his throat, Quentin nodded. “Me too. When he was first born, it was hard for us to talk about you, or Margo, or Alice. About anything from the life, really. It was hard to accept that we might not be coming back. Ted made it easier. I think he knew every detail about you by the time he moved out.”

She tugged on his hand gently, and her eyes were earnest when he met them. “I know you were an amazing father, Q. And you will be again someday.”

 _Fuck_. He didn’t have the time to break down now, not with the Monster one frustrated or bored moment away from overdosing in Eliot’s body, or a whole new body to build for him so he would let Eliot go. _Eliot_ … He felt too raw to let himself go there, to remember just how good it had been, to think about the meaning behind his message. To think about how much he _wanted._ “We did it together,” he said, his mouth twisting as he fought against the crumbling of his control.

“Hey,” Julia said, untwining her fingers from his, and the next thing he knew she was right beside him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let his head be pulled against her chest, pressing his forehead into her shoulder. “We’re going to save him,” she added firmly, and he wanted to believe it. In his stronger moments he did believe it, but right now he just felt… tired, and lonely. “Harold brought over the stone, so we’re one step closer. We can do this.”

“Hmm. I couldn’t even protect a stupid dragon egg,” he said, not sure if he was joking, not sure if he meant the desolation around that or whether he was projection, not sure about anything right now.

Julia leaned back, stroking her thumb over his cheek as she looked down at him, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah, well. You were going up against me, after all. And did you _see_ how badass Kady was today?”

Smiling his first genuine smile of the night, small as it was, he pulled her in for a proper hug. “The fact that you’re fighting so hard for him… I couldn’t do this without you.”

She squeezed him back just as tightly as he held her, and he was slowly able to piece himself back together. “You’re stronger than you know, Q. But I won’t let you do this alone.” She pressed her lips to the side of his head before pulling back. “We’re going to save your family, okay?”

Quentin nodded as Julia gave his arm one final squeeze before walking over to the fridge. He leaned against the counter, hoping she knew just how grateful he was to have her. For this, and in general. “You know you’re my family too, right?”

Julia smiled at him over her shoulder. “Of course I do,” she said softly. “And we’re going to figure all of this out together.”

Together. That’s all he wanted. Together with Julia, and with Eliot, and with the rest of their friends.

And someday…

_Do you think you’ll ever be a dad?_

_I hope so._


End file.
